Caring Is Not An Advantage
by VancouverCanucks01
Summary: When John and Sherlock are invited to spend Christmas Day with Mummy in Sussex, Mycroft is forced to bring his secret wife. Things go downhill from there... - Originally posted on A03.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: Originally posted on my A03 profile, SherlockianWhovian. Please review!**_

* * *

><p>"Mummy has invited you and Sherlock to spend Christmas with her down in Sussex." Mycroft Holmes told John Watson as he sat in 221B, his umbrella at his side.<p>

"And will you and Beatrice be joining us this year?" Sherlock asked casually as he sauntered into the living room, still holding equipment from his latest experiment.

Mycroft glared at his brother, silently warning him not to continue talking.

"Beatrice? Who's Beatrice?" John asked, looking between the two Holmes brothers.

"Beatrice is Mycroft's wife." Sherlock said simply, a smug look on his face.

"What? Since when are you married?" John asked, turning to face the older Holmes brother.

Mycroft sighed, "This is not a new occurrence. I have been married for years. Beatrice and I live apart and only ever see each other at functions." He explained to John.

"I'm sorry, I just can't believe this. You! Married! The brother who insists that caring is not an advantage." John laughed.

"Caring is not an advantage. I do not care for Beatrice. She is useful for certain work functions and that is it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to the office." Mycroft said, getting to his feet and quickly leaving.

* * *

><p>Mycroft hated Christmas. It was always an awkward and uncomfortable affair. This Christmas Day was no different. In fact, this Christmas Day was even more awkward than Mycroft had thought ever possible because Beatrice was sat beside him at the dinner table.<p>

He'd been forced to bring her along after Sherlock had told Mummy that she would be attending. The two of them sat stiffly, clearly not used to spending time as a couple. Beatrice was tall, very beautiful and was clearly very intelligent. John spent most of his Christmas lunch watching the two of them interact. They talked and laughed together, showing very clear chemistry despite what Mycroft had told John.

"So how did you two meet?" John asked Beatrice as they went to the kitchen to get more wine.

"Through our work. It's top secret, of course, but I can tell you that I am an assassin." Beatrice replied with a smile.

"Oh, right." John said in surprise, clearly not expecting them to work together, "What's he like at work? Important and arrogant, I presume?"

Beatrice laughed, "You don't seem to like Myc very much. He can be fun and he, like Sherlock, has a wicked sense of humor."

"Mycroft has a sense of humor? I'll believe that when I see it." John chuckled, "You two seem to get along so well, why do you live apart? Why don't you just be a proper married couple?"

Beatrice sighed a little, "Our work is dangerous, John. Death is a regular occurrence. It is safer to be apart. Caring is not an advantage, it leads to weakness. By being apart, we are eliminating a weakness." She explained.


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: Second chapter for this story! They're only short chapters as I'm trying to update more often! Please review!**_

* * *

><p>Beatrice and John returned with the wine and Beatrice took her seat beside Mycroft once more.<p>

John glanced over at both of their hands as he sat down, looking for any evidence of the marriage. Mycroft wore a gold ring on his right hand whereas Beatrice wore a delicate silver ring on her left hand. The seemingly unconnected pieces of jewellery were the only thing that linked the two of them, and even the rings differed in design.

"Is there something that I can help you with, Doctor Watson? You seem to have taken a rather unhealthy interest in my hand." Mycroft said, snapping John out of his thoughts and back into the real world.

"Sorry, I was daydreaming." John said quickly, glancing at Sherlock who was clearly trying to resist laughing at the dinner table.

"Myckie dear, why am I yet to see any grandchildren?" Mummy Holmes asked, putting her cutlery down and focusing on her eldest son.

"My name is Mycroft, mother, please use it." Mycroft replied sharply, not looking up from his Christmas dinner.

Beatrice, being the more polite of the two, put her cutlery down and smiled at Mummy Holmes. "The time hasn't been right for children yet. We are always looking for a way to bring a child into the family, but we are both so busy with work." she replied softly. She gently took Mycroft's hand, ignoring the shock and slight disgust on his face.

"The way you treat this poor girl is disgraceful, Mycroft. I don't understand why you have her out working when you could support her easily on your wages! I may not know your exact job title, but I know that you are very wealthy. You're getting older and you're the heir to the Holmes estate, it's time for you to have your own children to continue the family line! I expect a grandchild by next Christmas, Mycroft." Mummy Holmes said sharply.

The tension in the dining room could be cut with a knife. Mycroft and Mummy Holmes glared at each other for well over a minute before Mycroft finally gave in and looked away.

"Very well, mother." Mycroft replied, glancing at Beatrice before getting to his feet and leaving the room. Beatrice sighed and made her apologies before rushing off after him.

"Did you see his face? He never gets told off by Mummy!" Sherlock whispered to John, laughing under his breath.

"Be quiet, Sherlock. I expect grandchildren from you too." Mummy Holmes said as she went back to her meal, shutting up the younger Holmes brother with ease.


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: Here's Chapter 3! Please read and review!**_

* * *

><p>Mycroft returned to the dining room, his coat and scarf on and his umbrella in hand. "Apologies to cut this lovely day short. I have urgent business to attend to in London. Beatrice and I are leaving." he declared before he left the room.<p>

"I really don't see what his problem is. Honestly Sherlock, your brother gets more cold every time I see him." Mummy Holmes said, rising from her seat and walking to the kitchen.

John and Sherlock walked to the window to watch Mycroft and Beatrice leave. They shared no warm embrace and no words at all. Instead, he nodded to her and got into his blacked-out car whilst she did the same. The cars sped down the driveway and went in separate directions when they reached the road.

"He really doesn't like her, does he?" John said with a sigh, turning away from the window and looking at the grand portraits that lined the walls of the Holmes dining room. He made a mental note to find Sherlock's portrait.

"He puts on a front, John. They care for one another immensely, despite never being in the same building for more than a couple of hours." Sherlock replied, "He doesn't have urgent business in London, he left to escape Mummy's questions. It's unusual to see him so annoyed by her. Anyway, enough about Mycroft, let's get our things and leave before she manages to keep us here any longer."

John laughed softly and allowed Sherlock to lead him from the room.

* * *

><p>It wasn't long before one of Mycroft's cars returned them to 221B.<p>

"What are you planning? Your thoughts haven't stopped chattering away since we left the estate." Sherlock said with a frown.

"Stop pretending that you can hear my thoughts. You may be skilled, but you're not actually a mind reader." John chuckled, "If you must know, I was considering inviting Mycroft and Beatrice to dinner. The more time they spend together, they might realize how much of a good pairing they are."

"Mycroft would never allow it. They wouldn't turn up or they'd make an excuse." Sherlock replied as he scrolled through the comments section of his blog.

"Couldn't we trick them into it? Create a situation where they both have to be here and then launch dinner on them?" John asked jokingly.

"That's the first sensible thing that you've said all day, John! The game is on to trick my brother! I have dreamed of the right time to trick him into something, to prove my intelligence is superior to his." Sherlock said with a slight smile, looking up from the laptop.

"Oh great. I've started world war three." John muttered as he got out of his chair and went into the kitchen. He prepared tea for the two of them, avoiding all of Sherlock's odd, and possibly illegal, experiments in the process. He walked back into the living room and placed the mugs down before he sat back down too. He closed his eyes, enjoying the quiet paradise of 221B.

The front door opened and then slammed shut, footsteps quickly climbing the stairs. John opened his eyes with a sigh, knowing that his peaceful afternoon had come to an end.

Sherlock looked up and over to the doorway, "Beatrice? Is everything alright?" he asked in surprise.

"Mycroft... Mycroft is gone..." Beatrice gasped out before she collapsed. She was in a bad way, her clothes blood-splattered and her cheeks stained with tears.


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: Hope you all enjoy Chapter 4! Please review!**_

* * *

><p>"Gone? Gone where?" Sherlock asked with a frown, sitting forward in his chair.<p>

"Sherlock! Come and help her up!" John said from beside Beatrice, glaring at his flatmate.

"She weighs very little, John. The job doesn't require two people. Bring her here." Sherlock replied, looking over his sister-in-law and taking in every detail about her appearance.

John helped Beatrice up and sat her down in his chair, offering her tea. She shook her head with a small smile, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"A car crash, Mycroft's car. You witnessed it. How? You went in the other direction? Ah, your car turned back and followed his. Sentiment. You went to the car, dragged him out. He was alive. You were distracted and he was taken. He's a hostage." Sherlock deduced as he looked Beatrice over carefully, "Where's his umbrella? Did they take that too?"

"Unlikely. I got him out but I think the umbrella was still in the car." Beatrice responded quietly, her thoughts clear and ordered despite her upset.

"Does he carry any other weapons that might not be detected?" Sherlock asked.

"He keeps a cyanide pill in a pen, just in case he is close to giving away state secrets. Without the umbrella, he is defenseless." Beatrice replied.

"Not completely defenseless. Mycroft's greatest weapon is his mind. Hopefully he'll be able to play with his kidnappers until we can find him." Sherlock said with a sigh, "He does so love to play."

* * *

><p>"Mycroft Holmes. It's an honour to meet you at last. I've heard all about you and your infamous brother." came a voice from the shadows.<p>

Mycroft looked up, "An attempt to intimidate me this early on in the conversation? I am impressed." he said sarcastically, "You're wasting your time by keeping me here. You would have achieved your goal much quicker if you'd just rang my PA."

"You think dearest Anthea would have assisted me? No, Mr Holmes, you're wrong. My goal isn't political, it's personal. It's you that I want. With you under by thumb, the British government is mine to control." the man replied.

"Surely you don't think that it's going to be a simple process to get me 'under your thumb' as you put it?" Mycroft replied.

"Of course not, Mr Holmes, but there really is no rush. I have all the time in the world to break you." the man laughed darkly.


End file.
